


Laundry Day

by wallflow3r



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Bethyl Smut Week August 2020 (Walking Dead), Daryl not neglecting the clitoris, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn with Feelings, finger banging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflow3r/pseuds/wallflow3r
Summary: Back from college and home alone, Beth is looking for something to do. She starts with laundry, and then Daryl Dixon shows up at her door.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 40
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kattyshack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattyshack/gifts).



> A little something smutty for Bethyl Smut Week 2k20!
> 
> For Maj, because she ~~licked it~~ inspired it so it's hers ♥

Beth Greene is having the laundry day to end all laundry days.

Fresh out of college, with her sister recently moved out to live with her fiance, and now her daddy away on a week long fishing trip, the Greene farm is eerily quiet, and Beth might be just a little bit bored. 

Having been raised that idle hands are the devil's playthings, she decides to enthusiastically take on the piles of laundry in her bedroom that are becoming difficult to navigate her way around in the dark. She's so enthusiastic in her efforts while still in her pyjamas that all she's left herself to wear in the summer heat is a little pair of denim shorts and a crop top. But that's fine. Nobody's due on the farm today anyway since it's a Saturday.

After the piles of clothes have been successfully evicted from her floor and hung out on the line, she decides to strip the bed and wash that too. 

She’s just on her way back upstairs with two comforters precariously clutched in her arms and obscuring her ability to see - but who needs to see to find their way around their own home anyway and Hell if she's going to make two trips - when there's a knock at the door. 

With a sigh, Beth drops her bedding at the foot of the stairs with a sigh and crosses the hallway to the front door. 

Pulling it open, she finds Daryl Dixon slouched on her doorstep with his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, head turned towards the barn with his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. When the door opens, his gaze swings front and his eyes widen as they fall on her, pinballing down the miles of exposed skin before guiltily dropping to the floor.

“ _Oh_ , hey Daryl,” Beth says brightly, swallowing down the mortification rising up as she only then remembers she’s in daisy dukes and a thin cami. 

Well, isn’t that just typical. Of all the people that could turn up at her door when she looks like she just fell out of a barn dance themed strip club, it has to be _him._

“Where’s your dad?” Daryl asks gruffly, glancing up at her through his hair.

“Out of town,” She supplies, crossing her arms over her bare stomach, “Anythin’ I can help you with?” 

She watches as Daryl frowns then drags his gaze back towards the barn. Her eyes catch on the way his shoulders strain against his t-shirt as he inhales. Kinda funny how he’s the one fully clothed yet she’s the one staring. 

“Said I’d come look at his truck,” He says, thumb coming up to catch between his teeth, “See if I can get it workin’ again.” 

Beth smiles. She’ll bet it’s his day off and he won’t charge her daddy a dime for coming out here, no matter how long it takes to get his tired old truck going, when really he should just scrap it for parts but he won’t because it’s the truck he took her momma out on their first date in and other memories he isn’t ready to part with. 

The same truck he drove Beth and her momma home from the hospital in, some twenty two years ago. The truck he later taught her, and her sister, and her brother who isn’t with them anymore, to drive in. A lot of memories she’s holding onto when she holds that steering wheel as well. Maybe she isn’t all that ready to part with them just yet either.

Daryl knows this, and he manages to keep the old thing running, perhaps through sheer force of will on his part or through prayer on her daddy’s side. She’s pretty sure he’s replaced everything under the hood by now. 

Daryl’s frowning back at her like her smile confounds him. It probably does, because he doesn’t realise what a nice thing it is that he’s doing. That most people would tell her daddy it’s a lost cause. She also suspects that Daryl thinks he has to earn his friendship with a man like Hershel Greene. He’s ashamed of where he’s from, of being raised behind the trash cans, and in his mind he’s still there, he’s still trash. 

But he’s not, and Beth knows that for a fact. When her brother died, Daryl came to the farm every day, and kept things going while her family grieved. Fall isn't a good time for a farmer to lose his son, but she supposes nobody told the drunk driver that. Beth is almost certain Daryl used up all his vacation days to be there, though he'd never admit it. Wouldn't let Hershel give him a cent either. That's the kind of man he is; bull headed, and loyal to his bones. She wishes she could tell him, but she knows he'd be crawling out of his skin to hear it. 

“The keys are in the kitchen,” Beth says, pulling the door all the way open and motioning with a nod of her head, “Y’alright to go get ‘em? I was just in the middle of somethin’.”

Daryl nods his head and steps inside, giving his boots a cursory wipe on the mat before making his way through to the kitchen. 

As Beth hears the jingle of car keys from the other room, she scoops up her comforters and starts to ascend the stairs, gingerly feeling for each step with her foot.

“Er, what’re you doing?” Daryl’s gravelly voice brings her to a halt. 

“Ridin’ a horse, what does it look like?” She snaps, and it would probably be more cutting if not for being said into the comforter she’s keeping in place with her chin.

“Looks like y’re tryin’ t’ break y’ neck,” He says gruffly.

Beth wishes she could turn around to shoot him a scathing look, but she’s pretty sure that would cause a pillowy avalanche. Before she can think of a retort she hears the bottom step creak as Daryl comes to stand behind her. His arms frame hers as he reaches over her head, and takes the comforter that’s obscuring her line of sight.

Beth turns her head to huff at him in frustration, “I don’t need your help.”

Their eyes catch and her stomach twists when she realises how close he is, just a breath away with the stolen comforter under his arm. 

There’s a smirk tugging at his mouth as he holds her gaze for a moment, eyes glinting with amusement. She doesn’t know what she wants to do more - slap him or kiss him. 

And not for the first time either.

Beth has been wanting to kiss Daryl (and slap him, on occasion) ever since he rolled up to the farmhouse on his motorcycle when she was just seventeen as a seasonal farm hand with a personal guarantee from Deputy Sheriff Rick Grimes.

That summer the sight of him made her giddy- she couldn't so much as look at him without turning beet red, nevermind talk to him. The giddiness, and the blushing, eased over the years as she got to know him, turned into a deeper kind of longing when she found out he was much more than his thick corded arms and leather vest. 

“I know,” He says, and to his credit he doesn’t laugh, “But I’m here, so might as well make use of me.” 

_Kiss him, definitely kiss him._

Her mouth tugs to the side in defeat and she watches his eyes soften around the edges.

“Fine,” She mumbles, turning and continuing up the stairs, which, admittedly, is much easier now that she can see.

Seems he's grown up too, which might be a strange thought to have about someone twice her age, but with Daryl it fits.

If she'd mouthed off at him four years ago he'd have chewed her out and taught her a few choice profanities in the process. He had a short temper back then, but his bark was always worse than his bite.

Her bedroom is at the top of the stairs and the door is already open, so Beth steps inside with Daryl following behind. Dropping the comforter beside the bed, she picks up a freshly washed sheet from the floor beside it. 

She turns to thank Daryl and send him on his way, but before she can open her mouth he’s tossing his stolen comforter on top of hers and taking the other side of the sheet.

Beth frowns in confusion as he steps backwards, shaking the sheet open as he goes and side stepping around the foot of the bed.

Wordlessly, she mirrors him, completely bewildered as she watches him tuck the corners around her mattress and she does the same, fumbling like she’s never made a bed before. 

“What’re you doin’?” She asks when he grabs a pillow and starts stuffing it into a case.

“ _Ridin’ a horse, what does it look like?_ ” He refrains, lips quirking.

Beth’s forehead burrows into a frown, “I don’t need your help, Daryl, I’m a grown ass woman, not a child.”

Daryl’s eyes flick to her, before returning to the pillow and tossing it onto the bed.

“I can see that,” He murmurs, grabbing another pillow. 

Beth’s cheeks flare as she grabs a comforter off the floor. 

There’s a beat as Daryl stuffs another pillow and Beth shakes out the comforter onto the bed.

“Sorry _,_ ” She sighs, smoothing the comforter flat, “I'm jus' sick of people always lookin’ at me an’ assumin’ I need help, that I can’t do anythin’ by myself."

Beth grabs the second comforter and starts shaking it out.

"Guess I'm tryin' so hard to prove I can take care of myself I'm becomin' a real pain in the ass." 

Daryl nods, tossing the pillow onto the bed, and grabbing the other side of the comforter.

“Anyone who thinks you need help don't know you,” He says, mouth twitching as he pulls the comforter flat, “An’ you’ve _always_ been a pain in the ass."

Beth rolls her eyes, but can’t fight the smile pulling at her lips, “Thanks, I think.” 

This less turbulent Daryl surprises her. He seems more settled in himself somehow, and it’s riling her up in an entirely different way.

When Beth turns to Daryl , she finds him looking around her room, thumb back between his teeth and shoulders hunched as he scans the shelves packed with books and picture frames, walls adorned with music posters and maps of places she wants to visit someday, a pinboard scattered with polaroids and ticket stubs. The room of a teenager, because that’s what Beth was when she last lived here. 

Daryl doesn’t look entirely comfortable, but he doesn’t look like he’s itching to leave either. In truth, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look _entirely_ comfortable. Angry, irritated, bored, even mildly amused on rare occasions, but never comfortable. He used to wear a scowl as his default expression when he first came around the farm, stuck to him like his leather vest. The first time Beth saw him smile, flashing teeth at a joke Glenn had made, she couldn’t stop staring. Apparently she wasn’t subtle about it either because Maggie nudged her so hard she nearly fell off the porch. 

Smiling suits him so much more than scowling, it’s such a waste he doesn’t do it more, and a shame he doesn’t have more reasons to. She used to think about that a lot, lying in her bedroom, wishing she could be the one to chase that scowl off his face. 

Beth giggles when it dawns on her that she’s lured her teenage crush, bad boy with a heart of gold, Daryl Dixon, into her bedroom.

Daryls head snaps up and he narrows his eyes at her

"Whats so funny?"

"Oh. Just like, you're in my bedroom, an' four years ago I would have been thinkin’ of ways to get you in here an' I guess I finally did," She laughs nervously.

There’s an audible lag in the conversation as Daryl stares back at her blankly.

"... _what?_ "

"Oh, come on, I had the biggest crush on you," Beth rolls her eyes and shakes her head, trying to shake away the warmth on her cheeks. 

"You did?" 

"I mean, not quite doodling _Mrs Beth Dixon_ in my diary, but there were some pretty elaborate fantasies involving your motorcycle."

Oh god, her brain is screaming as she passes innocent babbling and ventures into the realms of something that should only be voiced to a priest in confession. 

"What kinda fantasies?"

His low murmur interrupts her internal screaming and her eyes snap up to meet his. 

"'Bout you throwin' me on the back of your bike an' takin me for a ride," She says, because the floodgates have opened and apparently she can’t stop.

Daryl stares at her, immobile except for the flare of his nostrils.

She baulks, blinking up at him. _What is wrong with her??_

"Sorry, I don't know why I'm tellin' you all this."

"Don't be," He rumbles.

Beth has a dangerous habit of babbling when she's nervous, but even then she usually has at little more of a filter than this. Why is she so nervous? Not nervous, exactly, but definitely twitchy. Heart fluttering in her chest and toes tapping out a frenzied rhythm on her bedroom rug.

Might have something to do with Daryl Dixon being in her bedroom, and the fact that she just told him she had a crush on him _for absolutely no reason at all._ She put it in the past tense where it belongs, and maybe if she keeps saying so, it will become true. 

As it stands though, if her current shortness of breath while standing completely still is anything to go by, Beth isn't at all over this little crush she has on Daryl because she still very much wants to get under him. 

"Four years ago, huh?" Daryl asks.

That's when it _started,_ Beth thinks, but by the grace of God, this time she just nods and rolls her lips together. 

"You've grown up a lot since then."

"Oh, you have no idea," Beth shakes her head and feels a frenzied laugh bubble up in her chest as she remembers throwing Maggie’s birth control in the pond when her sister came back from college. Now her own set of pills sits in her bedside drawer, next to her lube and vibrator. Yeah, she’s grown up _a lot._

Daryl’s eyes narrow as he watches her, studies her like she’s confounded him again. She can’t believe he didn’t know, because everyone else on the Greene farm sure as hell did. 

"Outgrown fantasisin' over dirty old rednecks, I hope," He says, the corner of his mouth twitching, eyes shining with amusement.

_Not this one, not even a little. Not ever._

"It wasn't 'cause you were older,” Beth rolls her eyes, “It's ‘cause you're... _you."_

She freezes. _Shit._ That was definitely not in the past tense. _Fuck._

Daryl's forehead creases.

"S'never worked in my favor before," He murmurs. 

Beth's lips curl that he might consider that working in his favor.

Silence stretches and fills the room. The corner of Daryl’s mouth isn’t quirked anymore, his lips are pulled into a tight line, jaw clenched, expression sober and lacking the lightness of a moment ago. Not that Beth can look directly at him, she’s smoothing her hands across her comforter, working out non existent creases. 

Her heart is beating fast like she’s had too much coffee, but she hasn’t had any, opting for tea on the porch this morning. The lull in the conversation stretches towards discomfort and when Beth hears Daryl’s boots scuff on her floor she assumes he’s going to leave. 

"So," He clears his throat, a rough and guttural sound that pulls Beth’s eyes up, "How'd these fantasies end?"

"Oh, wow,” Beth blinks back at him in surprise, “Well, I didn't have a whole lot of experience at seventeen, so probably like, a hard-core make out session."

His eyes are glued to the side of her face as she exhales a laugh and clasps her hands together because she doesn’t know what to do with them. 

"I could probably update them now," She adds, more to herself than him.

Daryl doesn't say anything and Beth internally cringes so hard it might be a stroke.

"Not that I'm really experienced now or anything,” She corrects quickly, “I've had two boyfriends, but one didn't really count," She wrings her hands together as she babbles and starts wishing she could wring her own neck with each passing minute.

The corner of Daryl's mouth pulls up into a smirk and Beth's heart feels like it's about to burst out of her chest like in the movie Alien her brother Shawn made her watch that gave her nightmares for a week. 

"I ain't got a lot of experience in that area either, so the reality would probably be a big disappointment," He says wryly. 

"I doubt that, Daryl," Beth smiles, unclenching her hands. 

He scoffs, unconvinced. 

"One of my fantasies was touching your arm," She feels compelled to tell him. 

For a moment Daryl just squints at her as though he thinks he’s misheard.

"No it wasn't," He deadpans.

"Sad but true," Beth nods, mouth pulling to the side. Sharing that rather tragic teenage fantasy should probably make her want to crawl out of her own skin, but for some reason it doesn’t. 

"You want to touch my _arm_?" He asks in disbelief.

Beth’s head spins around so fast her ponytail hits her in the face.

"What, like right now?" She asks excitedly. 

Daryl frowns at her, mouth hanging open, as though completely lost and Beth starts to feel a sinking feeling pull her shoulders towards the floor until Daryl exhales loudly and shakes his head.

"Knock yourself out," He shrugs, looking no less confused, but there’s a smile pulling at his mouth.

Beth excitedly closes the space between them, looking up at him with wide eyes before gingerly curling her fingers around his bicep. She can feel his eyes drilling holes into the side of her face and when her fingers give a little squeeze he flexes his muscle so that it bulges in her grip and her eyes flick up to his with a giggle. 

"Is that good for you?" He asks dryly. 

Beth giggles again, "My seventeen year old self is screaming."

Daryl shakes his head and huffs a laugh, the corners of his mouth settling into a small smile. 

As the giggles subside, Beth looks up at him, tipping her head back because they’re suddenly so close. Their eyes catch and Beth's smile widens.

Suddenly, there's a tension that wasn't there before, and Daryl’s eyes pulse before he pulls them away.

He doesn’t step away though and Beth watches his Adam's apple spasm in the centre of his thick neck where she’s stood barely six inches away. Her attention is drawn to his mouth as he catches his lip between his teeth and starts to worry it, something she’s seen him do a thousand times, but never up close. 

She feels a little drunk on his proximity, her head spinning as she stares at his mouth.

“An’ kissin’ you," She whispers into the space between them, “That was somethin’ I used to think about _a lot._ ” 

Daryl's head snaps up and he looks at her, _frowns_ at her, eyes flaring with alarm.

She used to wonder if he’d taste like cigarettes, because he was always smoking. She still can’t smell Marlboro reds without picturing him lighting up on her porch. She even stole a dried out old cigarette from the packet Maggie keeps stashed in the mudroom. Beth nearly coughed up a lung when she tried to smoke it in a foolish attempt to get a little closer to knowing what he might taste like. 

Slowly, he blinks, and his eyes drop to her mouth.

Beth licks her lips, whether to entice him or because they're suddenly tingling under his gaze, she doesn't honestly know.

He can see her, of course he can, it's not like there’s any room to hide with how close they’re standing. 

His eyes linger for a moment before flicking up to hers.

He shifts in place, gnawing the inside of his bottom lip, and all of a sudden, Daryl is the one who looks nervous. Almost like he's itching to get out of there, except his eyes aren't on the door, they're locked on her face, narrowed in focus. 

" _Beth_ ," He says, _breathes_ , her name coming out as a warning, a _plea_ , and she sucks in a deep breath as she hears herself spill from his mouth.

His eyes flicker back at her as he works his jaw, swallowing hard as bewilderment scores a line in his forehead.

It feels like all the air's been sucked out of the room. Beth is getting lightheaded from the breath she's holding, but she doesn't dare breathe, or move a single muscle, in case she spooks him because maybe, just _maybe…_

The line in his forehead softens as his sharp blue eyes scan her face. His gaze catches on her lips and lingers.

And then everything stops; her heart, her thoughts, maybe even the world stops turning for a moment as Daryl ducks his head and presses his mouth against hers.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth lets her eyes fall closed and loses herself in the surprising softness of Daryl’s lips, hers tingling as his tongue flicks out to coax them apart. 

Heat sparks in her belly as she inhales, nose tickling with a mix of sweat and motor oil. It’s not an unpleasant smell, if anything she feels a little heady at the raw masculinity of it. She tightens her fingers where they’re still curled around his bicep as she feels herself sway with the headrush that comes with his kiss. 

His eyes snap open, and she slowly peels her lids apart just as he leans back. He goes just far enough so he can look at her, and he does, pinning her in place with the intensity of his blue gaze. She watches his tongue slip out to chase the taste of her across his bottom lip.

As though pulled into his orbit, Beth surges up and brings their mouths back together, a little more firmly than before. She replaces his tongue with hers to run along the seam of his lips, and they part with a moan that she feels around her tongue, and between her legs.

His hands fall to the small of her back and find the strip of skin between her top and her waistband, setting her skin aflame as they slide up under the hem. A jolt of electricity chases Daryl's fingers up her spine, curving her back and propelling her forward into the cavern of his chest.

He groans into her mouth when her chest brushes against his, nipples peaked and pressing into his solid muscles. His fingers curl, fingernails scraping across the sheen of sweat covering her skin, every touch sparking a heat that keeps climbing until she's feverish, near delirious with lust. Her hands curl around the back of his neck, carding into his hair and taking root.

Being around him has always made her feel a little dizzy, but this feels different, this feels _shared._ The way he's kissing her back, clumsy and heated, the way his hands are roaming, questing for more skin. She's swallowing his moans and they taste as real and as fevered as her own. In this moment, he’s a mirror, and he wants her as much as she wants him.

They part on a gasp, panting into each other’s open mouths.

“ _Jesus,_ that the kind of hard core make out session you imagined?” Daryl asks roughly. 

“Heck no,” She answers breathlessly, shaking her head. 

She's spent a lot of time over the years imagining what it would be like to kiss Daryl, to be kissed by him, but the reality is something else entirely. More innocent, the way he’s looking at her, less so, the way she’s steadily soaking through her jean shorts. She never imagined kissing Daryl would be so _wet._

With his eyes locked on hers, Daryl runs his tongue across his bottom lip again, now swollen and glistening from where he’s been moving his mouth against hers. 

His hands are still curled up under her top, and Beth takes that as a good indication he’s in the same mind as she is that it’s too soon for this to stop. 

Pushing up on her tiptoes, she throws her arms around his neck and crashes their mouths together. Her forward motion sends Daryl tumbling backwards onto the bed, and Beth follows, straddling his waist as she lands on top of him. 

He’s gazing up at her with pupils blown wide, his face slack, but his fingers curled tight around her waist. 

That’s when Beth feels him hot and hard between her thighs, and she can't help rolling her hips to ride the bulge in his jeans.

" _Christ_ ,” Daryl grunts, squeezing his eyes shut, "Gonna make me go off in my pants like a boy.”

Beth’s hips grind to a halt. 

"I can think of better places," She says, voice husky and surprising them both.

Daryl’s eyes pop open and connect with hers. 

"S'at an invitation?" He asks, bright blue gaze scanning her face.

Beth blinks down at him. Is he serious?

She's grinding him into her mattress and he needs _clarification_?

Again, Beth finds herself torn as to whether she should slap him, or kiss him.

A huffed laugh escapes before she can stop it, and the corners of her mouth curl up. Leaning forward, she presses a lingering kiss to his mouth, freeing the bottom lip caught between his teeth as he melts beneath her.

"God Daryl, _yes_ , in case it wasn't already abundantly clear, _yes,_ this is an invitation to fuck my brains out."

There’s a beat. 

Daryl’s eyes darken. 

Two. 

His nostrils flare. 

He surges up and the next thing she knows, he's flipped them over and is kissing her into the mattress as he shoves his hand down the front of her shorts.

Beth gasps against his mouth as his thick fingers quickly find her clit through her underwear, and a whole body shudder runs through her at the welcome pressure. 

"This what you want?" He asks as he cups her sex, squeezing her through her panties and pressing a finger into the damp crease between her lips.

“ _Yes_ ,” Beth gasps as she writhes beneath him. 

Her cunt is already thrumming with need, and when Daryl drags his fingers up her slit and presses her clit a soft moan spills from her lips. 

His breath hitches at the sound, and he kisses her harder, drinking down the sounds she makes as her clit jerks beneath his fingertips. 

With his tongue in her mouth and his hand between her legs, the heat generated between them keeps building until her legs are shaking. In a few more minutes she’ll be coming into her panties against his palm. It might be a little more than a hardcore make out session, but it’s a lot less than she wants of him. With that thought in mind, Beth reaches down and pushes his hand away. 

Daryl's face is drowning in panic when he pulls back to look at her. 

"Shit, Beth, I’m sorry, I thought-" He stutters. 

The sound of her zipper cuts him off. 

Beth hastily pushes her shorts down, panties too, wriggling them down her legs and kicking them onto the floor. 

“They were in the way,” She says quickly.

Then she lets her legs fall apart onto the bed, spreading open like a flower in full bloom. 

She watches as Daryl’s eyes drop like a stone to the apex of her thighs. 

He stares for a moment, unblinking. 

He's looking at her bare pussy like he's never seen one up close before.

All of a sudden it strikes Beth that maybe he hasn't. Maybe this is all as new as it is for her.

That thought leaves her breathless. After all her formative years of pining, how could that be possible? And yet...

He might be older, but maybe he isn't any more experienced than she is after all. 

She watches as he slowly tilts his head to this side, and then Beth’s soul leaves her body as he starts to lean in. 

Suddenly, he stops, close enough that she can feel his shallow breath ghost across her inner thigh, and he looks up at her, eyes pulsing with uncertainty. 

She doesn’t hesitate. Her head bobs up and down because whatever he wants to do is fine, honestly, she just wants him to do something, _anything._

Crawling up the bed his mouth falls to her throat and his fingers quest down her slit to her entrance. She jumps at the heat of his fingertips and the electrifying feel of skin on skin as he touches her without impediment. No jeans, no panties, nothing between them except lust. He groans against her neck when her wet heat welcomes his bare skin. 

He's gentler than she thought he would be, fingers deftly taking her apart as he coaxes his way inside her walls, gliding easily in the slick of her arousal. When they part on a gasp he mouths his way down the underside of her jaw to her pulse point, and when he starts to suck Beth's cunt tightens around his fingers.

"I thought you didn't have much experience," She pants, "In this _area_." 

Daryl pulls back to look at her.

"I don't," He murmurs, making a beckoning motion inside her and causing her hips to buck up off the mattress. 

"That feel good?" He asks, watching her face intently.

Beth nods, biting her lip as a desperate moan crawls up her throat and threatens to escape.

He closes the distance between them, covering her mouth with his and sucking her bottom lip out from between her teeth. 

Releasing her lip with a wet pop, he tilts his head back just enough to catch her eyes with his.

"Wanna hear you," He says, voice hoarse, gaze trembling, making Beth's cunt throb with every clipped syllable.

Beth releases a shaky breath into the bare inch of space between them, resisting the urge to bite her lip again and hold back another moan as she feels his knuckles flex against her inner walls.

This time, when she feels the heat in her belly crawl up her throat and into her mouth, she lets her lips fall apart. She doesn’t recognise the sound that pours out, hot and dirty against his cheek. His fingers tremble in response, tightening inside her as he turns his head to stare at her mouth, eyes sharp with disbelief as he flexes his knuckles again. 

Beth’s hips jump off the bed of their own volition, nerve endings flickering with a pulsing heat that's born in his fingertips. 

Not because he knows how or where to touch her, but because he’s paying attention to every pulse and every hitched breath, growing more confident with each sound he pulls from her.

With his fingers still curled inside her, he uses his other hand to spread her open. He pulls back her hood to expose her clit; fat, pink and pulsing with every twist of his fingers as he screws them into her. 

Beth watches Daryl lean in, a flash of tongue coming out to wet his lips before he covers her clit with his mouth and starts to suck.

The feel of his hot tongue lapping at her sensitive skin is enough to push her worked up nerve endings over the edge. As she starts to come, her hips buck up off the mattress, and Daryl pushes them back down, holding her steady as her clitoris swells into a hard bead and pulses against his tongue, sending sharp pleasure sparking across her pelvis. 

“ _Oh fuck_ , oh fuck _, Daryl,”_ She cries out, burying both hands in his hair and dragging him up, breaking the seal of his mouth with a lurid sucking sound.

Her hands tremble in his hair as he stares at her, pupils yawning, and his tongue slides out to trace his lips, lingering in the corners.

_Heaven help her._

She's gazing at him over her heaving chest as he pulls his fingers out from inside her.

Daryl's eyes drop to his glistening digits and stare for a moment, nostrils flaring, before raising them up to his open mouth.

Beth feels her clit fill with blood as she watches Daryl suck the come off his fingers one at a time. _Her_ come.

With a low hum, he falls back onto his elbows, chest heaving even though she's the one who just came. 

Maybe it's adrenaline then that pushes her up off the mattress, climbing onto his lap with her clit still throbbing and her thighs trembling. 

She doesn’t waste a moment, just leans forward and kisses him, a little rougher than before, a little more desperate. His hands fly up to her waist and his fingers feel warm and tacky from where they were just inside her as he pulls her closer.

When his hands soon dip below the hem of her cami again in search of more skin, Beth leans back, and pulls it up and over her head. She wants him to look, to touch every inch of her body and set her skin aflame with his hungry palms. There's not much to see but he can see it all, if he wants to. From the look on his face he feels otherwise, eyes dropping to her chest like hot flints and pooling to black.

He responds by pulling his own shirt off, exposing his broad chest and shoulders. Her eyes take in the tattoos and scattered hair that mark him as a man, not a boy. Instinctively, Beth reaches out and strokes her fingers up his sternum, feeling the coarse hairs beneath her fingertips. 

His eyes track her face not her hand and when she drags her fingernail down his skin he shivers and his hand comes up to close around her wrist. 

She freezes, worried she's annoyed him, until he brings her hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to her palm. 

Beth's heart stutters at the tender gesture that somehow feels more intimate than when his fingers were inside her just moments ago. 

The way he's looking at her now makes her breath hitch, because it's not lust pouring out of his eyes, but genuine affection. He's looking at her like she's the only thing he wants to look at, and she doesn't think it's because she just took her top off, at least not _just_. With a smile she can feel against her palm and see in his eyes, he looks like he's having fun. 

They’re both panting with excitement as Beth tugs at his belt and between them they work it open, knuckles bumping and fingers wrapping around each other, smiles growing wide enough to make Beth’s cheeks ache until Daryl pulls his hand away to shove his jeans down. 

His cock springs out and the smile falls off Beth’s face, hitting the floor with a thud. 

_Jesus, Mary and Joseph._

She stares for a full minute before the gravely sound of Daryl clearing his throat pulls her eyes upwards. 

"It's so _big_.”

Daryl's mouth falls open, but no words come out.

"I dont think it's gonna fit," Beth muses, gaze dropping to his swollen cock, and a crease forming in the middle of her smooth brow.

" _Beth_ ," Daryl chokes.

"No, seriously," She leans forward, and reaches into her bedside table.

"Wha's that?" He asks, turning his head to watch her.

"Lube," She says, seriously considering using about half the bottle before a split-second of common sense tells her she’d just be wasting it. 

Squeezing a generous amount of clear jelly into her palm, she wraps her hand around his cock and glides it down his length, pulling a shuddering moan from his chest. Her eyes flick up to his face to find his eyes fallen to half mast as she pulls her hand back up his cock, coating it with slick, and finds herself torn between where to look. 

Dropping her gaze to the straining cock in her hand she curls her fingers around his girth, squeezing to make her fingertips touch.

“ _Beth_ , fuck me,” He groans as his cock pulses in her palm.

It’s an exclamation, but Beth chooses to take it as an invitation, and uses his shoulders to pull herself up to hover over his cock. Their noses bump softly as he captures her mouth with his, burying his fingers in her hair as he cradles the back of her skull. 

She guides him down her slit towards her center until he catches on her entrance and their mouths to part on a gasp. 

He's looking straight in her eyes, hand on her cheek as she parts her thighs as far as they will go and presses down until his cockhead pops through her tight hole. 

It's not the sudden stretch that rips a moan from her throat; it's the look on his face. The sting only lasts for a second but the image of Daryl's eyes blowing wide the moment he's inside her will be seared into her memory forever. 

"You good?" He asks, scanning her face as his thumb drags across her cheek.

From the roughness of his voice, Beth wonders if maybe she should be the one asking him that question. 

" _Yeah_ ," She nods, and when her voice trembles his eyes drown in uncertainty. But the smile on her face seems to convince him, and his darting eyes settle to pulse back at hers. 

Even as wet as she is and stretched out from his thick fingers, Beth feels her walls part for him as she eases herself down his length.

Once he's fully inside her, all hesitation is gone, replaced by hunger and heat. Trusting his senses to guide him, he's no longer second guessing himself as he tunes into the rhythm of her body.

He surges up and takes her tit into his mouth, sucking her nipples into swollen peaks before nuzzling between them to mouth at her breast bone, tasting every inch of her skin and leaving it tingling. 

She looks down at him as he looks up. He smiles and she drags his face up to hers so she can kiss him, teeth knocking teeth because neither can stop smiling. They pant into each other's mouths as Daryl pistons in and out of her and Beth rides his cock, smiles widening with each pulse of her clit that they both feel, spinning them closer to climax. Daryl’s so close to coming, Beth can feel his cock swelling dangerously inside her. 

He’s pounding into a place inside of her that Beth didn't even know _existed._

This is uncharted territory. She didn't know sex could feel so... overwhelming. Has she been doing it wrong up until now? It’s not just good, it’s an _awakening._

She rides him as he fucks up into her, grabbing her ass and pushing her down on his dick, grazing her fat swollen clit with each rock of his hips.

Even as huge as he is, and as deep as he's going, hitting that spot inside her that makes her spine arch, she can't get off from his cock alone. She's teetering on the edge, agonisingly close, but she can't get there, not without a little clitoral stimulation. 

Reaching down, she starts rubbing at her swollen hood hard and fast. Daryl sees her and nudges her hand away, replacing it with his own as Beth’s eyes yawn up at him. His movements are slower than hers, gentler, and his eyes fall on her face to see if they're enough. 

"Wanna get you off, Beth," He grates out, "Let me, _please._ "

Neither of her previous boyfriends ever paid this much attention to her body before. Not like this, not like it really mattered, not like it's the most important thing in the world right now. 

It's not that they didn't care, she doesn't think, just that they seemed focused on their own pleasure, and her body was something to be used to that end. This is different, Daryl is different. 

" _Faster_ ," She pants, "An' don't stop."

His eyes flare with surprise but he doesn't hesitate, his hand matches her rhythm as she bounces up and down on his dick with increasing speed and he thrusts up to meet her. 

His mouth falls to her throat, hot breath searing her skin before he sucks it into his mouth. As her clit starts to pulse he sucks harder, hard enough she thinks he might leave a mark. She hopes he does.

 _“Shit, Beth, it feels like you were fuckin’ made for me,”_ He moans as their hips kiss. 

She knows what he means, because this feels too perfect not to be by design. The way their bodies slot together, his huge arms framing her entire body, as they throb and pulse in unison. 

He's mouthing at the underside of her jaw with his soft lips and rough stubble, rubbing her clit with the pad of his thumb, fingertips ghosting across her taut stomach as she rocks back and forth on his cock and his hips jerk up to meet her, crashing their bodies together over and over in a blur of blinding heat.

It's hard and it's soft all at once; hips pistoning up and down, lips pressing a trail of kisses across her throat, hands grabbing, hot and demanding, as fingers stroke and soothe, savouring her skin.

Between his soft lips and his hard cock she comes undone.

Her walls start to spasm around him and his rhythm falters, his kisses turning to moans against her neck. 

She feels his cock throb inside her as her walls clutch and seize, a hot shudder rolling through her core. 

" _Daryl_ ," She cries out.

His name is the only word she knows as the force of her release curls her toes and empties her lungs. 

He keeps fucking up into her, even as her cunt tightens around his cock and twists his moan into a whimper. He fucks her through one orgasm and into the next, thumb circling her clit until she pulls his hand away, her shuddering hips riding the wave of pleasure that threatens to drown her. 

His hands tightening in a bruising grip on her hips pulls her back to consciousness. Looking down as he lifts her up off his cock, Beth watches as come bursts from the tip of his cock and pours down his length.

The sound he makes as he empties himself reverberates in her soul, his satisfied groan filling her ears as the smell of come surrounds her.

As Daryl falls backwards onto the bed, his big hands slide up her hips to curl around Beth’s waist and drag her with him.

She lands with her face barely an inch from his, sliding her hands down his shoulders to his chest to steady herself. An inch is too far for Daryl as he cups the back of her neck and drags her down to bring their mouths together, more affection than desire before letting his head fall back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath. 

Beth rises and falls with his chest, where she's lying on top of him, more of their bodies touching than not, his cock softening in the sticky mess between them. 

She can't tear her eyes away from his face; eyes hazy, hair wild, cheeks flushed, jaw slack with a smile tugging at his mouth. His rough fingertips are trailing up and down her back, aimlessly, like he doesn't even know he's doing it. He looks completely relaxed, and God does it suit him.

Beth rests her chin in her hands, enjoying the view, when Daryl tilts his head to look at her, eyes burning blue, and her racing heart skips a beat.

He blinks as though coming out of a daze and takes a deep breath Beth feels ripple beneath her like a wave. 

"Wow," He rumbles, bare chest vibrating against her nipples.

Her lips part on a smile. 

" _Wow_ ," She echos.

"Thank you," He says, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as a little of his usual jumpiness creeps back in. The pure and unrestrained sincerity in his voice causes Beth’s heart to flutter wildly.

"I should be thankin' _you_ ," She says playfully, "For makin' all my fantasies come true." 

"Don't you dare, " Daryl baulks, "If I had fantasies, I'm pretty sure that would have been all of 'em." 

The corners of her mouth curl up at the compliment, and when the conversation lulls, Beth catches her lip between her teeth. 

Daryl picks up on her change in mood immediately, fingers twitching against her skin and tension setting his jaw.

"What is it?" He asks, as his darting eyes search hers. 

Beth swallows down the jangling nerves threatening to block her throat. 

"The real you is so much better 'n any teenage fantasy," She blurts out before she loses her nerve, and feels Daryl's breath hitch underneath her.

"It's not about the arms, it's about the person inside those arms," She explains, and then freezes.

God, that sounds ridiculous.

Daryl's mouth twitches at a smile, he wraps his arms around her waist and drags her forward, pussy scraping across his chest and kicking a gasp from her lungs. 

"An' right now that's you," He rumbles, the corner of his mouth sliding up. 

Beth laughs and rolls her eyes, feels her cheeks grow warm like she's stayed out in the sun too long.

His eyes are bright, not laughing at her but teasing and when his lips curve and part on a smile he’s downright beautiful. Not a smirk, but a real smile that reaches his eyes.

When her legs start to ache, Beth crawls off Daryl to stretch out beside him. Rolling over, she feels the comforter wet against the bare skin of her back and a giggle bubbles up in her chest. 

Daryl shoots her a questioning look.

“Guess I'll have to wash my sheets again,” She explains, her smile growing as a blush colours his cheeks.

“I'll help you, s'my mess,” He says, his blush deepening. 

“It's both of ours,” She says softly, feeling her face grow warm, and watching the tips of Daryl's ears turn bright pink. 

“Wanna make a l'il more?” She asks. 

He answers by dragging her on top of him, and covering her mouth with his. 

Lying there amid stained sheets, skin sweaty, teeth knocking as they grapple for closeness; it's messy and it's real. And if Beth had to update her fantasies this would be it; the burn on her face from his stubble, the love bite on her neck she'll have to hide, and the arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace that loosens in sleep. 

With the rumble of his chest at her back as he starts to snore and the heavy weight of his arm across her waist, Beth feels her eyes grow heavy, and she lets sleep take her, too. The laundry will still be there when she wakes up, and so will Daryl. 


End file.
